


Finding Home

by WhoIsWren



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Brakebills, Eliot-centric, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Magic-Users, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soul-Searching, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 16:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11062704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoIsWren/pseuds/WhoIsWren
Summary: Brakebills was just a building, nothing particularly special about it. It was the people inside these magical halls that made the place a home. It was these people the school accepted that showed Eliot what a real home was.





	Finding Home

**Author's Note:**

> My first The Magicians fic, this is my submission for [The Welters Challenge](https://thewelterschallenge.tumblr.com/) week 1

Setting his eyes on Brakebills for the first time didn’t invoke a clichéd feeling of _home_ , Eliot barely knew what the word meant. Brakebills University was an opportunity, a new start, a place he could belong. None of that spelled home to Eliot.

Home wasn’t Whiteland, Indiana either. Living on a farm where everything smells like manure and roosters wake you up at the ass crack of dawn every morning wasn’t exactly Eliot’s paradise. As a kid he was chubby which made for an easy target with local bullies. From the first moment he started thinking about anything sexual in nature he’d thought about doing those things with other boys, girls just didn’t make him think that way. Eliot was always smart, despite what his parents and practically everyone he’s ever met thinks, so he knew that coming out wasn’t something he could safely do in his hometown. Being beaten up for being chubby or for being weird was one thing, if he told people he was gay those bullies would kill him; he was sure of it. His childhood was miserable to say the least, no hope of finding _home_ there.

Puberty hit and with it some much needed growth spurts and an unexpected magical ability. Telekinesis, the ability to move things with your mind; sounded so much cooler on paper. It was one thing to discover magic but it was something else entirely to find out by killing someone. Fourteen years old and already Eliot had blood on his hands.

Things changed for Eliot after the accident; he changed. Whatever shred of the sweet little boy he’d once been was hidden away under layers and layers of defensive sarcasm. He’d work out more because the strain of his aching muscles was better than the emotional pain of what he’d done. Practicing magic was difficult but necessary; Eliot had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone else with an errant thought. Focusing on working out or his magic made Eliot a little more self absorbed than he used to be but he preferred it that way – the more he focused on himself the less chance there was to care about someone else, because caring about someone gave them the chance to hurt you.

Despite his selfish ways Eliot turned out to be pretty social and by the end of High School he was considered popular. Of course it was all a front, a mask if you will. It wasn’t like he was hiding the _‘real Eliot’_ – he hadn’t even figured out who that was yet – it was more so that he was concealing his heart. He gave people, his friends, as much affection as they expected but never let them get too close.

College was all about self discovery, as clichéd as it sounds. Eliot took his time figuring out who he was and who he wanted to be, as well as figuring out the necessary steps to get there. Mostly, he partied like the world was ending, slept with anyone he found even remotely interesting – including the occasional female when he was very _very_ drunk – and actually studied harder than anyone gave him credit for. He was better at the parties than the studying without a doubt but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy learning.

Magic was kind of on the back burner for Eliot – he knew it was there, he enjoyed it to a degree and accepted that he had these abilities but that was it. Doing a few tricks here or there was enough to keep this magical energy inside him content. When he first learnt to control his thoughts he found that doing regular magic, even small little spells, was enough to stop his mind from acting on every single passing thought. There have only been three times when Eliot’s mind has done its own thing, luckily no one died those times. But that lingering thought of, _you killed someone once you could do it again_ , was always enough for Eliot to make sure he uses his magic regularly. He’s come to see it as something like taking vitamins; they only work if you take them regularly.

He’d been aware of Brakebills before his entrance exam, hard not to hear about the prestigious school once you learn magic is real. Eliot knew he was smart, but Brakebills was like next level genius, he never thought he’d have a chance. Eliot only _plays_ confident, in actuality he has so little self confidence it doesn’t even register on a scale.

Actually seeing the school was a little breathtaking, he has to admit. The stone work alone was immensely beautiful. Brakebills has this old school mystery vibe with a veil of whimsy overlaying everything. The gardens scattered throughout campus looked like they were another world entirely. The thing that stumped Eliot the most was how normal everything actually looked, the whole place honestly looked like any other elite university in the country. Nothing was inherently magical about it, but just because you couldn’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Eliot could feel it flowing in his bloodstream, that little spark of magic. It was like being able to breathe again after being underwater, a feeling of rightness.

But rightness didn’t make a _home_.

Nothing about this beautifully magical place felt like home until Eliot met Margo.

If there was ever such a thing as soul mates – well, platonic soul mates at least – then Eliot found his the day Margo Hanson stomped her high heeled way into his life. She was so adorably tiny that Eliot didn’t really know what to do with her, then she spoke and her words were like millions of razor blades scaring your soul. Eliot fell in love, platonically at least because he really wasn’t into girl like that, _no way._

Once Margo realised that Eliot was just as much of a bitch as she was she latched onto him and hasn’t let go since. They’ve spent years together and after a while it’s like they became one soul living in two bodies. Eliot’s never felt better than when he’s been with Margo, she is his best friend, his sister, his bitch and his queen.

That is where Eliot found his home, _with Margo._

Eliot thought his life was pretty perfect at Brakebills with Margo by his side – if you ignore the copious amounts of alcohol he uses to drown his never ending sorrows – that was until he was lying on the Brakebills sign waiting for a new student to stumble past the wards. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Dean Fogg chose him to guide this particular student, or why this kid didn’t get transported closer to the exam room like the others. Eliot wasn’t anything special, not top of his class or any kind of potential leader; he was nothing, no one of any importance. So why give him this task? Pondering the decision would likely drive him insane so Eliot vowed not to think about it and settle on being annoyed that the new guy was late.

Stumbling awkwardly out of the brush and past the wards was a particularly average looking guy. He was a little short – though everyone was short to Eliot – and wearing truly unflattering clothes that matched his scruffy long hair. Clearly the guy had no idea where he was or what the school was all about.

Quentin Coldwater.

How unassuming, how plain.

Then he locked eyes with Eliot and the older magician felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, or _ever_ if you want to get literal.

There was that spark of interest, of curiosity that could never be satisfied with a quick lay. Eliot wanted Quentin the moment he got a proper look at the guy, but this feeling was more than simple attraction. If he dared to guess, Eliot would say it felt similar to the way he felt when he met Margo. Like a lost piece of his soul finding its way home.

But this was different than Margo.

Margo, the queen she was, was undoubtedly a part of Eliot that he needed to survive. Quentin felt like a part of him he needed to _live_.

 Surviving and living are two very different things.

Quentin has such a light about him but a light that was shrouded in darkness; something Eliot could relate to. In fact, he found himself relating to Quentin in a great many things but they were dissimilar enough to keep Eliot on his toes. Quentin fit so seamlessly into his life it felt like he’d always been there.

His deadpan humour complemented so well with Margo’s snark and Eliot’s sass. They each brought something different to the others lives, something they each sorely needed. Whatever worries Eliot had about his two soul mates not getting along vanished the moment they met. Margo would never admit it but she liked Quentin almost as much as she loved Eliot.

Eliot didn’t know the meaning of home until he came to Brakebills and found himself a couple of bona fide soul mates that made him really _feel_ for the first time.

Brakebills isn’t just a school; it’s a magical being in itself. It has a mind and will of its own. It finds the missing and the lonely and gives them purpose, gives them a home and makes them whole. Eliot thought he was whole when he found Margo, then Quentin came along and he felt complete.

What a truly terrifying concept.

Being complete left you open to breaking.

Being in Brakebills made you feel brave, brave enough that Eliot was willing to risk the chance of getting broken if it meant he had people to put all his pieces back together again.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, feel free to check out my other fics as well.   
> Kudos and Comments are always welcome.   
> Check out my [Tumblr](http://www.nothing-personal-my-dear.tumblr.com)


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